Across Lagos, piles of uncollected refuse are becoming an unsettling symbol of a megacity under strain. From residential streets to commercial hubs, the sight and smell of waste are rekindling public health fears and environmental anxiety. Yet officials insist the crisis is not merely logistical. It is a complex mix of population pressure, rising costs, weak compliance, and human behaviour—factors that will determine whether Africa’s largest city regains control of its waste or slides backwards in the years ahead
Across several parts of the Lagos metropolis, residents say frustration is mounting as refuse heaps accumulate on streets and open spaces, heightening fears of environmental degradation and public health risks. For the Lagos Waste Management Authority (LAWMA), however, the problem extends beyond logistics; it is as much behavioural as it is operational.
“Lagos is one of the largest megacities in the world, with a projected population of about 27 million,” said the Managing Director and Chief Executive Officer of LAWMA, Dr. Muyiwa Gbadegesin. “Each resident generates roughly half a kilogramme of waste daily. When you do the arithmetic, that amounts to between 13,000 and 15,000 tonnes of waste every single day.”
Gbadegesin explained that the state operates a structured waste management system anchored on public-private partnerships. About 450 Private Sector Participant (PSP) operators are responsible for collecting refuse from households, markets, and commercial premises across Lagos’ 377 political wards. “On average, there is one PSP operator per ward, although larger wards have more. Over time, however, rapid population growth and rising infrastructure costs have placed enormous strain on the system,” he said.
Financing, he noted, remains a critical constraint. “A new compactor truck now costs about N250 million. That makes it difficult to attract fresh investment, though it also presents an opportunity if the right framework is put in place.” Beyond collection challenges, Lagos is grappling with a more complex dilemma: waste disposal. Major landfill sites, including Olusosun and Soluos, are nearing or have reached full capacity, prompting complaints from host communities and intensifying public health concerns. Soluos, located close to Alimosho General Hospital, was shut down after becoming dangerously overloaded, forcing operators to travel longer distances to disposal sites as far as Badagry.
“The closure of a landfill cre ates ripple effects,” Gbadegesin said. “PSP operators have to travel farther, spend more time at dump sites, and return later to complete collections. When trucks break down or are delayed, residents often dump refuse on the roads. At that point, LAWMA has no choice but to step in.”
To manage the strain, LAWMA currently deploys about 100 trucks around the clock across 44 operational routes, clearing illegal dump sites, blocked drainages, and accumulated waste. But the scale of the challenge far outstrips existing capacity. “One hundred trucks are not enough for a city of this size,” Gbadegesin admitted. “Ideally, Lagos requires at least 1,000 compactor trucks, with another 1,000 as backup. Over the next 10 years, we plan to acquire between 100 and 200 trucks annually to meet that target.”
In parallel, the authority is pursuing the development of at least 20 transfer loading stations across the metropolis to reduce the distance waste must travel before final disposal or treatment. Enforcement has also been significantly intensified. LAWMA has expanded its enforcement teams from one to four, covering key corridors including Orile to Badagry, Western Avenue to Ikorodu, Lagos Island to Epe, and other strategic routes. “We are increasingly becoming an enforcement agency,” Gbadegesin said. “We are even considering becoming a uniformed agency if that is what it will take. Every day, we arrest individuals who dump waste illegally and prosecute them through mobile courts. By law, every household must register with a PSP operator and pay its waste bill. Failure to comply carries consequences.”
However, he stressed that enforcement alone cannot solve Lagos’ waste problem. Central to LAWMA’s strategy is waste reduction, reuse, and recycling. “Ninety per cent of what people throw away has value to someone. Throwing waste away is, quite literally, throwing money away,” he said.
In line with this thinking, Lagos has unveiled a comprehensive long-term waste management strategy that marks a fundamental shift in how the city views its refuse. Moving beyond collection and disposal, the new roadmap prioritises a circular economy—one in which waste is treated as a resource capable of being reinvested into the local economy. A core element of this vision is recovery: extracting energy and materials from waste that would otherwise end up in landfills. While reduction and recycling remain priorities, the strategy underscores the role of energy recovery in building a sustainable future. “Every piece of waste represents a potential resource,” Gbadegesin noted.
“We will embrace a waste management system that is user-friendly, with programmes and facilities that balance community needs with environmental protection,” he said, adding that the state is exploring new markets and cutting-edge technologies to convert waste into power and usable products.
Already, LAWMA has rolled out community recycling initiatives, including weekly buy-back programmes at transfer stations where residents can exchange plastics, metals, paper, and even organic waste for cash. Plans are underway to expand the initiative to more locations, including Mushin and Ikeja, and to establish recycling collection centres in every local government area. The agency is also piloting lower-cost solutions such as tricycle compactors designed for narrow streets and hard-to-reach communities. “A tricycle compactor costs about N7 million, compared to N250 million for a full compactor truck. They may carry only one or two tonnes, but they improve coverage and create jobs,” Gbadegesin said. LAWMA plans to lease hundreds of these units to young entrepreneurs and former cart pushers under a regulated framework.
Beyond infrastructure, the agency is deepening collaboration with local governments, market associations, and transport unions. “We cannot work in isolation,” Gbadegesin said. “Cleanliness must be seen as a cost of doing business. If you make money at a bus stop or in a market, you must keep that environment clean.”
Gbadegesin linked poor sanitation directly to public health outcomes, warning that environmental neglect carries deadly consequences. “Nigeria’s life expectancy is around 52 years. Many people die prematurely because of environmental factors—the air they breathe, the food they eat, and the waste around them. Caring for your environment is fundamental to living a healthy life,” he said.